


And Your Voice Brings Me Back

by scientificapricot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, cured demon!dean, i had to give them happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scientificapricot/pseuds/scientificapricot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean is cured, he is reunited with his angel and his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Your Voice Brings Me Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princess0fdisaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess0fdisaster/gifts).



> So the season ten premiere squashed my soul and stomped on it, and I needed some Winchesters and Castiel fluff. I kinda wrote my version of after Dean is cured (he will be Dean again, just wait and see) and Cas and Sam's reactions. (My brain told me to give them some happiness.) This is a short little ficlet I wrote for my sister, MizzieMaggs, because it also happens to be her birthday today and I still don't have her present. Thank you so much for introducing me to the wonders of Destiel and Supernatural! I love ya, sis!

Silence.

There is a deafening silence.

 _Something went wrong_ , Cas thought worriedly. _This isn't right._

He turned away, hands clenched in his hair in pain and anguish.

 _I_ _ruined him_ , he thought.

"Cas?"

Castiel spun around, his trench coat a blur. He desperately needed to see the eyes that belonged to that voice, and yet he was afraid to hope.

Beautiful green eyes stared back at him in awe.

"Dean. Are you real?"

The man broke into a freckle-faced grin. "Real and human."

Cas didn't even notice the shackles that had bound the demon falling to the floor as the human stood up. Dean stepped forward and embraced the angel with watery eyes and strong arms. Cas gripped Dean tight as he buried his face in the man's shoulder and held back a sob.

"Hey, it's okay," Dean whispered. His voice cracked a little. "I'm me again."

Cas pulled back, not letting go, but wishing to see those gorgeous eyes again. They were unwavering in their color, and once again filled with warmth and emotion, the darkness cast away. "Yes. _Yes_ , you are." Cas wrapped his arms around Dean again. They stayed in each other's embrace for a long time, until Dean pulled back.

"Come on," he said gruffly. "We'll have plenty of time for this later, but I think we should let Sam know that he's got his brother back."

Cas gulped back more tears and nodded. Dean stepped out the Devil's Trap with ease, and gestured for Cas to follow with a playful smile. Cas obeyed, and followed his righteous man into the main room of the bunker.

 

* * *

 

Sam paced 'round and 'round the long dining table. He ran his hand through his hair and over his face, wrung them together, fiddled with the sleeves of his plaid shirt, anything to distract himself from the ball of dread and worry in the pit of his stomach.

If one thing, _one thing_ went wrong in the ritual, it would all be over. No more tries, no more chances. No more coming back.

His brother's fate was in the hands of an angel.

He heard the door to the basement behind him open and froze mid-stride, listening. The soft steps of Castiel and the rustle of a trench coat reached his ears. And then he heard something else.

Different footsteps, ones he could identify in his sleep, ones that had woken him up more than once after coming home from a bar or a motel in the middle of the night (although not very often since angels entered their lives).

"Hey there, Sammy."

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked back, it was attached to his brother.

_His brother._

His brother had been fading away ever since he'd been branded with an angry red burn. There was nothing but tan skin on Dean's forearm now.

"Dean,' he said in a choked voice, not much different than that of a scared little boy who looked to his older brother for protection from nightmares. Dean wordlessly hugged him, stretching up as Sam bent down. He knew he was probably squeezing the air right out of Dean's lungs, but he couldn't find it in him to care at the moment. His brother was back, only this time, without shadows in his eyes.

After they pulled apart, punched each other's arms and clapped each other's shoulders, Sam wiped his eyes and turned to Cas.

The angel's sapphire orbs were trained on Dean, relief and affection pouring out of them.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. "Thank you." He pulled Cas in for a hug, and the angel hugged him back after a moment of surprise. When Sam let go, he saw that Cas' blue gaze was still fixed on Dean.

 _Why-_ Sam started to wonder, but then he remembered.

 _Oh._  

"I'm going to go in my room and um, call Garth, and tell him you're okay." Sam backed up as he spoke to the two, Dean taking an enormous effort to look at him again.

"Yeah, yeah okay... Sam," he murmured, distracted.

"Uh, you know, the car's outside. I mean, if you want to go somewhere." Both men turned varying shades of pink. Sam said quickly, "It's just- We're running out of, um, salad stuff and I, uh, I don't like driving with my arm in a sling." He pointed to it halfheartedly. "So you guys would be doing me a favor, and..."

They weren't paying attention to him.

"Okay, uh, see you later," he said with a knowing smile, and turned to go to his plaid clad bedroom.

 

* * *

 

When two people are reunited, they embrace each other. They hold on to each other, and don't let go for a long time. Touch is a reminder that the other person is really there. Maybe they hold hands, maybe they cuddle, maybe they're just grateful for any physical touch. Like a hunter and and angel.

This unlikely couple drives to the store in a beloved car, and the angel rests his hand on the hunter's knee. They go in, buy Moose Market lettuce for a certain little brother and add a pie to their shopping basket. Afterwards they take a detour to a men's clothing store and replace the angel's current trench coat with one of a more familiar style (that holds fond memories). The hunter keeps his hand at the small of the angel's back the whole time.

They drive into the middle of a field of pale purple wildflowers, get out with the pie and two plastic forks in hand, and seat themselves on the hood of the car. The hunter and the angel share the pie, shoulders touching, and once they're finished, lean back against the windshield.

Maybe the angel lays his head on the hunter's shoulder, maybe the hunter rests his cheek on the angel's head.

Maybe their hands entwine.

They don't know what new horror will be thrown at them next, but for now, they are home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That last part is meant to be read in Chuck's voice. :)  
> Please give this kudos if you liked it! Comments/feedback is greatly appreciated, whether they're a compliment or constructive criticism. They also motivate me to write more!


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